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Kristin Mitsu Shiga Shag Shaggy Chug P.O. Box 83191 Portland, OR 97283 tel: 503.329.2352 fax: 503.286.8679 Write to us 
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© Copyright 2001 Kristin Mitsu Shiga All Rights Reserved |
| THESIS: Made Art: Vol. I |
PROCESS: PART II
Suspension of Outcome
As I mentioned earlier, one of the most challenging aspects of the project’s hybridized collaborative format was that it was defined by an element of the unknown. From the start, it was a gamble. I spent the first half of my thesis year investing hundreds of hours and dollars in a process with an uncertain outcome. Would I get what I needed from the mail-art component of the project to inform a body of three-dimensional work? I was not even sure what would constitute “what I needed.” Because I wanted my gallery work to be a true reflection of the information I collected, I put strict restraints on my predictions for the final form that work would take. This method of working (the suspension of outcome) is contrary to my usual creative process, and necessitated a reevaluation of my values as they relate to craft. Every aspect of the project outside of the experience of process took a back seat. The biggest struggle, and therefore the biggest triumph, for me was to feel validated in this way of working.
Switching Gears
With boxes of mail surrounding me, the transition to returning to the studio and making three-dimensional work seemed insurmountable. How could I step into my role as translator? For almost a month, I read and summarized stories, inventoried objects and photographs, hoping to see a logical pattern to my sample. Until that point, I had assumed that natural subcategories would inevitably emerge within the overwhelming response I had received. This was not the case. Each story was completely individual. Although the distinctive nature of each father-daughter relationship was what I was originally hoping to illustrate, I found myself baffled at how to assimilate all the variety before me into a manageable body of work.
Simultaneously, another dimension to the project began to emerge. By fostering personal relationships with each of these women, some of whom I had known previously, some of whom had been strangers, I also began to feel a deep sense of responsibility to each of them. The investment they had made in my project was precious to me, and I wanted to make sure I did them justice.
After much time and deliberation, I convinced myself that the only solution was to make pieces based on each of the individual relationships conveyed to me in my participants’ stories. That, of course, meant making over 100 pieces, and accepting the fact that all of them could not be done in time for the Thesis Show.
After I resigned myself to that decision, however, the stories seemed to fall in line, and, although they were still not strictly categorized, their common threads were exposed. My hope is that the more specific my subject matter, the more universally I will speak. So, instead of trying to make 100 pieces for the show in May of 2001, I used several individual stories as the “poster children” for loose collections of father-daughter relationships that I observed. The illustration of one woman’s account of her loving relationship with her father, then, can stand for the masses that exist, in and outside of this project. For the first group of pieces (displayed in the Thesis Show), I tried to choose individual themes for the work that reveal a spectrum of the relationships shared with me by my participants.
Another revelation I had while trying to make the transition from research to creation was that instead of merely painting a picture of the father-daughter relationship with each finished piece, I could make it reflect the woman who experienced the relationship. This choice, then, dictated the form each piece would take: wearable, figurative, functional, or not. A working lock on a box, for example, could indicate a feeling of secrecy or preciousness in one piece. Another might be worn low on the body to suggest the emotional weight of the topic on the woman. The unifying element shared by all the work is the source of inspiration, but this common portrait-style approach also helps connect the individual pieces.
Production Methods
Although I will allude to the production methods employed to create each finished piece, I think it is important to reiterate that the techniques are secondary to the content. This is an extension of my realization that the process of the women’s self-examination was truly the focus of this project. Instead of designing the kind of complex technical pieces I was taught to believe are appropriate for my skill level, what I tried to do in the production of this work was refer to the wide variety of techniques I could employ as a language. The “words” I chose to illustrate the ideas were wholly dictated by the content of the piece. As in the case of some poetry that can’t be translated directly into another language without disrupting its meter or rhyme, I had to design the pieces with my eye focused on meaning. The technique or craftsmanship could not be allowed to distract the viewer from sharing the experience of the women‘s memories.
THE PIECES:
“Since I was Eight” - Neckpiece
The first piece to be conceived is a neckpiece of pressed rose petals in a spectrum of colors. The neckpiece illustrates a story from a woman with a close and nurturing father-daughter relationship. Each sterling silver link represents a year of the woman’s life, joined by toggles, which imply space for new links to be added as her life progresses. According to her story, she has received roses from her father every year on her birthday since she was eight years old. Now thirty, she still remembers how many she received each year. The number of petals on each link of the neckpiece corresponds with the number of birthday roses she received, while the progressing colors of the petals, from white to red, represent her “blossoming” into womanhood. The neckpiece is displayed in a large, wall-mounted spiral to connote the progression of this life, although it can also be worn as a ceremonial lei on the body.
“Worthless” - Neckpiece
“I grew up feeling like a failure all my life,” wrote one participant. “I had no self-esteem, I was always afraid to try new things, thinking I’d fail anyway. He had a way of making me feel worthless.” Some women had this sentiment told to them bluntly by their fathers. Others inferred it from lack of attention or affection. Whatever the case, it is not uncommon for a woman to cite her father as the source of her self-esteem issues.
This neckpiece has two components. The shell, a plumb-bob-shaped, incised wooden form, is covered with individual lead weights on tiny steel hooks. Some hooks remain vacant, as if in the process of shedding their weight, or perhaps ready to hold more. Inside the hinged shell is the embossed outline of a woman that engulfs three gold seeds which hang from the end of a delicate chain. When worn together, the encased seeds are concealed, and the long, blackened silver chain seems stretched to the wearer’s waist by the density of its pendant.
“No Daughter of Mine. . . “ - Sculpture
Until World War II, patriarchal households were the norm. Father made the money. Father made the decisions. No one questioned his authority. Though still in flux, this situation has changed drastically during the past century, leaving in its wake a good deal of resentment, often characterized by the rebellion of young women in such households. Several stories I received portrayed the father as a tyrant with his thumb on everything that went on, in and around the home. What he could control, he did, and what he couldn’t, he shunned. Some women learned to avoid confrontation by concealing their true selves in front of their fathers. “I could only hint at who I was, what I had become while he was busy making a living and making judgment calls,”# wrote one participant about her situation. She, like many others, lived trapped inside herself until she could escape his overpowering presence.
In “No Daughter of Mine. . .,” a recognizable female torso is coupled with several symbols to imply the control these women felt was so prevalent in their lives. Firmly screwed into her back is a red-tipped cork, the head of which shows through a cage between her breasts. The lower half of the doll-scale figure’s frame is roughly defined by its binding in steel wire; a cage which holds snowy feathers waiting to be set free. She teeters precariously on a single, slender post within a glass dome, swaying slightly at the influence of any outside force, yet inaccessible to the surrounding world.
Pieces continue on next page (click here).
IMAGES:
(See descriptions under "The Pieces," below left, for details)
"Since I Was Eight" - Neckpiece: (66"L Largest Petal: 2"L x 2 1/2"W x 1/100"D) Sterling, Rose Petals, Acetate
"Since I Was Eight" - Neckpiece: detail
"Worthless" - Neckpiece: (14 1/2" L - from neck
Pod: 2 3/4"L x 1 3/4"W x 1 3/4"D) Sterling, Bass, Copper, Steel, Lead, 24K Gold.
"Worthless" - Neckpiece (Detail)
"No Daughter of Mine" - Sculpture: (10 1/2"L x 9"W x 9"D) Mahogany, Steel, Sterling, Feathers, Glass, Oak, Cork, Rubber
"No Daughter of Mine" - Sculpture (detail - back)
All photos of "Their Fathers' Daughters" work taken by Courtney Frisse.